Concrete Angel
by Mytho-G
Summary: The girl stays silent, yet the teacher wonders. The girl cries alone, because she doesn't want to sin. The girl doesn't run away, because runners go to Hell. But, having a Guardian Angel with White Hair isn't running...is it? Revision and Updates
1. Part I

**Part I~**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Gargoyles. They rightfully belong to Disney.

(**Note: Important A/N at the bottom.**)

**Enjoy.**

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A little girl with a pale pink dress and blue flowers on it is seen walking on the sidewalk, obviously going to school from having a book bag and lunch pale, with her eyes kept to the space in front of her as she strides with the beat of her heart; left, right, left, right, one, two, three, four…But there things, for the people that were watching that didn't know was that she packed her own lunch; she is lost in her thoughts of screams and sadness; she wears dresses to cover the bruises and cuts that she received from her mother. The girl had no friends, nor family to talk it over with or protect her from her cruel fate. Not even the teachers help her, concerned yes, but never ask for fear of hearing what they imagine. She eats alone, and plays alone. Like all things in her life, loneliness is something she had gotten use to, but it makes her sad and hurt sometimes to see the other kids play and laugh together; to see parents pick up their children and smile in glee to see their glowing, learning faces. This one, lonely, sad girl envies these children, so much that she prays every night to someday have what she knows she disserves: a loving family or friend.

The little girl walks home, her face a bit pale, not knowing if her mother would be in a good mood or in her bad mood, like she usually was. She hoped it was the good mood; she was tired and wanted to sleep the weekend away without anything going amiss. Her head started to ache already, just from thinking about the beatings she gets almost daily and nightly, and her mother's mood swings of going from dangerous anger, to a frightful peace when she dresses the girl's wounds. Last night, her mother didn't change moods, she stayed in her dangerous anger and beat her own daughter until she bled, leaving her on the living room floor as she went to bed. So the girl had to dress her own wounds as best she could and barely got any sleep, hence the dark circles that she should be getting at age thirty.

She stands in front of the two story white house that belongs to her, 3705, a familiar address that only makes her shudder from the inside memories. Walking the stairs to the porch, and the few steps towards the door, she turned the rarely locked door and peeked in, her eyes already watering up from imagining the worst. But when she looked in, she saw no one. She quietly walked in and closed the door behind her, leaning against it as she clung to her book bag. She took a good gulp in her throat and spoke in the most feared and quieted voice a child could muster; only this was her natural voice from coming home. "I-I'm home…m-mommy..." She only spoke, because she knew that she would get beatings for an hour if she didn't announce she was home. She learned that the hard way. A response was made from a chair skidding against the tiled floor in the kitchen. The little girl tensed up, but showed no sign that she would be moving.

A woman's face leaned over the edge of the doorframe to the kitchen, her facial expressions heartless and careless, and a cigarette in her hand. Smoke blew from her nose as she sat in silence, as if debating on something. She finally spoke after what felt like forever to the little girl "….go to bed." Her voice hoarse and ruff in order and command, she placed the cigarette back in her mouth as she watched her little girl run up the stairs to her room, not moving until she heard the door close and breath out the smoke again, smashing the cig in her ash tray with a pile of others in it. She stood up and went to her room on the downstairs floor, getting ready for her date that night.

The little girl sat on her bed and circled a date on her calendar before lying in bed. She looked up at the ceiling as tears started to come down her cheeks. Pulling the sheets and covers close to her, the menacing wind coming threw her forever open window and making her shiver. She spoke quietly in a soft whisper, her voice jittery from being cold and sad "...Happy Birthday, Angel…" She told herself and turned over, facing the door as she started to drift into a cold and stiff sleep, her tears freezing on her cheeks from the cold night air. But she was awoken abruptly from her mother yelling from downstairs "I'm off, Angel! If I'm not here before morning, fix your own breakfast and lunch!" The door slammed hard after that. The girl knew that her mother meant it in a good way, but her voice sounded cold and warningly, as if wanting her to do something wrong. She pulled the covers tighter around her as she curled up in a small ball, continuing to go back to sleep and listening to the wind howl threw her window, pretending that it were wolves to come and take her away from this dreadful place called 'home'.

~The Next Morning~

Angel was awoken abruptly, and harshly, from hearing her mother entering her room and rising her mattress up in an angle, causing her to fly off onto the hard wooden floor. She banged her head hard when she landed, not moving for a few seconds until she felt that her dizziness was out. Sitting up, she placed a hand on her head and rubbed at the aching spot, feeling as if a bulldozer smashed her head against a concrete pavement at full force. She leaned against her wall before grasping her open window to get up, the pain in her head causing her to only rise up half way before landing on her knees again. Her mother blew smoke out of her nose, a sign of irritation, as she looked down at her in disgust. She took the cigarette out of her mouth and spoke in an uncaring and heartless way

"Oh, get up you little urchin." She criticized, puffing her cig and blowing the smoke out her mouth smoothly before speaking again "Stop pretending to be sick and get ready for school. Mommy's going over to a friend's house for the day. If the door's locked, just wait outside until I get back. Capuche?" She didn't even let her daughter answer before walking out of the nearly empty room, the door slamming seconds later.

Angel winced and whined from the pain in her head, tears coming down, not knowing what it was that was making her hurt so. Still clutching her head, she got up slowly, knowing that if she disobeyed her mother by staying home, she would receive more pain that evening. Taking in a deep breath, she went to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth and hair, putting it in a low tail. She grabbed her light blue book bag and went out the door, knowing well that it was too late to fix a lunch.

The walk to school was like hell to her. Every sound was heightened and caused her greater pain by the second. She swore that she could feel her brain rattling in her small head, trying so hard not to have tears come down and show off her pain. Her mom always told her that crying was just another way of wanting attention, and that it was a sin to crave attention. So she cries when she's alone, knowing that no one would see her and it wouldn't be a sin. Her arms were either shut tight together against her body in a self-hug, or her hands were rubbing or clasping her head, holding back tears of pain and whines of complaint. She almost couldn't handle it and nearly ran away to home at lunch time. When school was finally over, her teacher called her to stay for a question, but Angel couldn't stand one more sound and, instead, ran out of school and to home.

She knew that her mother wasn't home; it was an intuition that told her so. But she tried the door anyway, and sure enough, it was locked. She laid on the top step of her porch, both hands clasping her head as she used her right arm as a pillow, facing the streets. Her body was curled up as the pain traveled threw out her body, and her muscles aching from the cold banging against her. From all the pain that she has been threw, she had never experienced something this extreme. For a fast second, she thought that she was dying, wondering if death hurt this much. But something told her that it was something else, so she didn't push it any further, thinking was starting to hurt even more. She hick-upped and whined a bit, but quietly, not wanting attention to come to her and be sinned and not go to heaven. Her hicks quieted down to silent tears as she started to fall asleep against the cold wood below her, her cheeks red from tears, and skin pale from the pain and cold. When she succumbed to asleep, she could have sworn that her body had shut down and gone limp.

She woke up, abruptly for the second time that day, by her own chest hurting. She clutched her chest from the pain and flinched, her breaths fastening into gasps. She lasted like this for what seemed forever before it stopped. Sighing, she relaxed a little for a few seconds before realizing that she was still outside. It was now night, for the streets were colored black, only small areas lit up from here and there from the lamps. Not only that, but the temperature had dropped dramatically; even though it was nearing September, it already felt like December. She looked around, not knowing what to do, and looked behind her to see if her mother went in without her. She got up slowly and went to the window, peeking in. There was nothing; no light and no movement that she could see with her blue eyes. Looking again, she sighed and leaned back with hurt and disappointment in her eyes.

She heard something bang against the metal fence that separated the backyard from everything else; her eyes grew wide in fear and picked up her book bag and ran down the street the opposite of her school, hoping that whatever it was wasn't following her. She noticed that the banging of her feet against the sidewalk was making the pain of her head come back, causing her to stop next to a building. She took a few breaths, her head bent down as she arched forward, hands resting on her shaking legs. She must have run a mile before stopping, she was so exhausted. Wincing, she looked around as she placed an arm against her stomach, feeling an old wound start to open up again. She saw an alley way just a few feet in front of her and decided to take shelter in it.

It was mucky, but it was all that she could do for now. She placed a piece of cardboard box on the ground where she was going to sit, glad that the wall was at least dry from anything slimy or yucky as she leant against it. She winced again, her head tilted up and eyes shut tight as she tried to live the pain out. Tears began to spring from her eyes, her mouth opening in silent yelps of cries. She didn't care if she was in the open; she knew no one would see her, for she was covered in the shadows of the alley. The only way for someone to see her was if they were leaning from the roof and looking straight down at her.

After a few moments, she slowly removed her arm from her stomach; a large gash where her mother had cut her a few weeks ago was making her shirt cling to her body with the sweat that it prospered. It wasn't deep enough to draw blood, but it stung terribly. She knew that it would take at least a month or two to heal, just like her other wounds. Balancing her weight on her stretched out arms; she leveled her head and leant the right side against the wall, slowly letting her back and bottom support her weight. After what felt like forever to the little girl, she finally relaxed her legs and let them slide into a partial arch before her, the tips of her tennis shoes close to the edge of the cardboard that was protecting her from the contaminated ground.

After taking a few moments of calming down, she slowly opened her eyes and looked towards her right, glancing deeper into the alley that she was residing in for the moment. She saw a dumpster about fifteen feet away from her, it also leaning against the wall that she was leaning against. Further down, but on the other side of the alley, was a pile of garbage bags surrounding two full aluminum garbage cans, and just about five feet after that, was the brick end of the alley. She moved her eyes back and forth to make sure that there wasn't any movement. Sighing, she relaxed more and leaned fully against the wall that was holding her up from her limped state, resting a hand on her heaving chest.

A few tears started to come down her itchy face as she started to picture the beatings that she would receive when her mother found out that she was hiding in an alley way and not waiting at home for her. A shudder traveled threw her body as she could start to feel the new bruises and cuts that she would be receiving, if her mother ever found her. She closed her eyes again, but softly, and tried to rest again before traveling back to her house.

When she started to feel calmness take over, she heard a crumpling sound close by, like something scraping off rocks. To prove her point of sound, as soon as she opened her eyes, pebbles of the brick wall she was leaning against crumpled just beside the dumpster. Her eyes widened just like they had before she ran from her house. Her head slowly turned to were the pebbles fell, and she stared at them, long and hard and full of fear. Letting out a shuddering sigh, she looked up at the roof of the building and edge of the alley, picturing to see some crazy murderous man starring down at her. Instead of her imagination, she saw nothing. Instead of relaxing, this made her even more nervous and scared, for this meant that the person that saw her could have been anywhere.

She started to scan the edges of the building, seeing nothing and becoming even more skittish. She looked down and scanned the inner parts of the alley, still nothing out of the ordinary that she couldn't see. Another shaky sigh left her lips. She was about to lean against the wall and forget about what had happen, until she saw something move out of the corner of her eye. She froze, her eyes re-widening from fear and surprise. She slowly turned her head, still afraid of seeing that killer that she had imagined earlier when this whole charades started. When she aligned her head to where the movement came from, she didn't see the shadow of a killer, but instead saw a pair of glowing white eyes, starring back at her. If she were an old woman, she would have had a heart attack and died right there, but she was a little girl and only had fear creep up her even more. She sat perfectly still, even holding her breath, afraid that whatever was starring at her would attack her at any sign of movement she made.

Her eyes began to water from the gash on her stomach stinging in pain again from her staying still. She started to shake, still trying her best to keep still, until she couldn't take it anymore, she created the sin she was warned about. She collapsed her stiffness posture and wrapped her arms around her stomach, doubling over in pain. She started to shiver, waves upon waves of coldness hitting her at once from the pain coming in full blown. Her eyes were shut tight in pain as little hicks of whines sprang from her throat. If her eyes were still starring at the glowing eyes, she would have seen that they had softened to worry and what looked like sadness.

The little girl felt someone hovering over her as she laid there in pain. Her body had tightened its ball of protection and shivered more, from fear. She spoke up, but quietly and jittery from fear, pain, and coldness embedding her body. "P-please d…don't h-hurt m-me." She pleaded, a breathy cough coming from her as the pain started to become out of control. She started praying in her mind for the pain to seize and the warmth to come back, what warmth there was left.

As if on cue, she felt a pair of strong, warm arms embrace her and pull her gently against an equally strong and warm body that was connected to the arms. Her eyes opened some and starred at the body in front of her, seeing that it was a bare chest of a man. But something was amiss that told her that it wasn't a human man that was holding her. The skin color was off; it wasn't burnt, nor tan, but a dark red from what she could see. She felt another material touch her back and shoulders that weren't supported by the stranger's arms. Curiosity striking her, she glanced back to see what it was, expecting it to be a blanket or something similar. No, what she saw were wings, real wings that were connected to the body that was holding her. Her eyes traced the boned edge of the wings, them reminding her of a bat's, and saw that three small claws, the size of fingers were held at the tip of either wing. She gulped lightly, seeing as how sharp and thick they were, making the pain on her stomach throb again. She let out a gasp of pain and cringed in the stranger's arms. She felt the muscles of the arms flex and a breath of the chest stop for a split second as he held her closer. A soft and gentle whisper came from the creature man, trying to reassure her "It's okay; I'm not going to hurt you. That I promise. You're safe." The voice practically put her to sleep from its gentleness. She had never heard such a smooth and promising voice in her young life, it felt good to hear someone care. For the first time in her entire young life, she gave a small smile and relaxed in the warmth that was holding her, trusting this stranger, this creature, that she didn't even know the face of, nor the name of. For the first time in a long time, she felt safe and happy, and she wished to never feel any different anymore. For the first time, she fell into a peaceful, and calming, dreamless sleep, not caring what the morning brought upon her, at least at that moment.

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**A/N:** Considering this story is the top of the list on faves, hits, and reviews within my gallery I will be revising and updating it before continuing any of my other stories and/or updating any new ones. The revising will be small; just little detailed add and subtractions, grammar that I ignored, and sentence strucutres. You can re-read the chapters if you like, but everything stayed the same (more or less).

I know it's been a rather long wait, but lets make this adventure a worth wile one.  
I can't wait to see you all at the end, thank you to all that were patient with this and kept my eyes open on it.

-Mytho

P.S. For those that might be wondering; no, I will not be updating/revising the uncut version with this. I might do it after this one, but we'll just have to see how I am at the end of this.


	2. Part II

**Part II**

**Disclaimer**: _I DO NOT_ repeat_ DO NOT OWN ANY FORM OF GARGOYLES!!!_ They rightfully belong to Disney.

** Enjoy.**

Crits and Comments welcome--Flammers will be politely asked to leave the story. Thank You :).

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A sweet song was rummaging its way through her ears. She scrunched her eyes from being disturbed, snuggling closer to her pillow. Sighing deeply, she rested her muscles as she prepared to continue to sleep, the relaxation coming back to her. Then it hit her. The song she was listening to was of birds. Looking up, she saw that the branch that dwelled to a tree next to her window had birds on top of it, singing happily. The rays of the sun where dancing through her forever opened window and onto the floor, giving it a warm welcome feel to it, instead of that cold chill she usually gets.

A warm smile spread on her cheeks as she remembered the night before, feeling the effect of comfort. But she was also scared. What if her mother found out? Was her mother even worried that she didn't return 'till late that night? Was she even worried at all? Or worse; was she angered? She didn't even wanted to think what would happen if her mother found out that she ran from their house. It gave her goose bumps just thinking about it, let alone imagining it. She curled up in her bed with her sheets and shuddered, starting to feel the effect of the mid-morning air.

A knock brought her senses back from her cold. She looked up at her door, wondering what it was. Taking a while after another cold shudder, she got up, hearing a second, yet impatient knock. Opening the door, she saw her mother standing there with an aggravated look on her face. Oh God, did she know?

The little girl's eyes widened as she looked back up at her mom. Not knowing if she should talk first, apologize for her sin, or tell her how she even got home, she lowered her eyes to the floor.

The woman squatted down on her toes to get eye level with the girl, a cigarette in her mouth. Even though her eyes were emotionless green orbs, she petted her child's head. Pulling her closer to her, she held her tightly to her chest, her own eyes gleaming with unshed tears. Her cigarette limping some as some ash fell on the child's shoulder, only causing the little thing to flinch, but nothing more.

Shuddering some, the little girl looked up with her crystal blue eyes, wondering what has gotten into her mom. She knew that she wasn't heartless. It was just that, usually, in the mornings she started to throw a fit or yell at her or something mean. But this, this was new. When her mother spoke, she could hear that she was trying to hide the concern and worry.

"I'm…..Don't ever run like that again. I know it was late, but when I came home, I was furious that you weren't at home. I became worried when I saw the news…there was a rapist and a killer out on the streets last night. He's caught now, but……Oh God child, WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING!?" She hugged her daughter tightly to her, letting a few tears fall before throwing the child across the hallway, making her hit the railing of the stairs. "YOU PITIFUL BEAST!! YOU KNOW WHAT I GO THROUGH TO KEEP THIS ROOF OVER OUR HEADS!? THE LAST THING I NEED IS TO FIND YOUR BODY ON THE NEWS OR IN THE HISPITAL, DEAD!! DON'T YOU EVER, _EVER_, DO THAT TO ME AGAIN, YOU HEAR!?" She started to hit her. Not slapping, but not punching either. It was in between. The girl held in tears as new bruises were brought to her face and chest, starting to feel her mother kick her in the stomach where her wound was. She gasped aloud, eyes widening with hurt as her eyes started to water. "Don't you even think about crying you little urchin. You made your mother worry, and you ran away. You deserve more then what I'm giving you." With a harsh and stinging slap to both her cheeks, the bipolar woman stormed off to the kitchen.

Pain and fear traveled through the little girl as she laid in the hard wood floor of the hall way. Her shirt started to stain with fresh blood over the old, her wound reopening from the kicks she received. Silent tears fell down her cheeks and to the floor, her eyes gleaming fabulous with her pain and aches. She tried to get up, or even move, but she found it too hazardous and painful, so she just laid there.

She could here the hard steps of her mother's echoing heels in the tiled kitchen. She didn't know what she was doing, and she didn't want to find out. All she wanted to do was to curl up and wish that her Guardian Angel would come and comfort her again. Instead, she was lying on the cold floor outside her room, aching and crying from the pain that she didn't know why she received. She ran away, not because of her mother, but because someone was following her. And she was scared. That brought a new light in her eyes. To be scared shows that you will run, and running away is a sin.

Angel made a vow that moment, whilst laying on that floor; a vow that she will, and never would break. No matter the pain, the situation, or the person; she will never be scared or feared to run away.

_**Later That Afternoon**_

Angel was in the bathroom upstairs dressing her wounds. Her eyes were puffy and red, but she didn't care at the moment. Her mother left a few hours ago to do her thing, not even bothering to tell her when she was coming home. In resolution, the little girl knew that her mother was still upset with her, so she didn't linger on the subject. Holding in a sigh, she placed the alcohol and ointment on her stomach so that she can patch it up, putting little stitch tapes on it to keep it closed. She was thankful that she found it in the cabinet. Her mother must have bought some for her broken heels or something. After applying ointment and bandages to her other bruises and cuts, she slowly and limply walked back to her room, starring out the window in longing. She wanted her Guardian Angel.

"Where is he…?" She sighed to herself, asking no one in particular except the birds and wind. She sighed gently and slowly sat down. Squinting some from the pain, she laid on her back, the only place that wasn't bruised. She stretched her legs our before placing the covers over herself and sighed out again. The white ceiling that her eyes hovered to changed into a red-brown color, the white having a certain outline that reminded her of hair. Her vision was clouding over back to that creature, back to that warmth of her Guardian Angel. "I wish he was here…" She sighed out as she snuggled as best she could under the covers. Her eyes slid closed as painful sleep crept to her. Exhaustion won as the sun started sink lower, but not close to sunset yet. She knew that her mother would be home soon, she just hoped that she would be at least kind enough to let her sleep until the next day.

When Angel awoke, she saw orange all around her. At first, she was frightened, but then heard the faint song of the birds as they nestled in the branches next to her window. Looking out, she saw that the orange was coming from a sunset from the sky. She couldn't see the beauty of the sun, but she could tell from the shadows and the faintness of the light.

Wondering at the time, she craned her neck to look at the two handed clock on her wall. It was eight fifty seven. Sighing some, she flung the covers off of her and, as gently and slowly as she could, got out of bed. Using the mattress as a secure way to walk to the other side so that she could get to her door, thoughts of her mother came to her. If she was home, there was no way that she would be fixing dinner this late, she never fixes dinner this late. But there was a smell that was flaking its way to her light freckled nose, her stomach growled in excitement of smelling decent food. If it was for her, it would be the first real meal she would have had in….well, a very long time.

She reached the door with shaky legs, and as her hand moved towards the door knob, the white cracked wood gate swung open. The little girl's eyes widened from surprise, her hand still stuck out as if reaching for something, her neck craned upward to see the trespasser. To her surprise, it was her mother.

The middle aged woman was holding a tray on her hips, holding it steady with her arm as the other one was holding the doorknob. Her mother was also starring down at her in surprise, but for a different reason. "Why the hell are you out of bed!? Get back in! shoo. Go on!" She batted her bracelet covered wrist as she guided her youngling towards her bed. Setting the tray of food down on the nightstand, she helped Angel get tucked in, propping up her pillow and securing her blankets.

Angel nearly fainted from surprise when her mother went to her closet and fetched out a comforter, in fact it was Angel's favorite comforter. She felt the light heaviness of the material and smiled, loving its warmth elevate against her chilly skin. She then looked up at her mother as the tray was set on her lap. Before she could ask what was going on, she felt the unmistakable touch of skin on skin. She flinched, thinking that she was getting punished, but she was pulled gently up. "Shhh…I'm just checking your fever." Her mother's voice was so…gentle. Angel looked up at the source of the voice with surprise and blinked. Then it hit her. _Fever?_ Her brows furrowed together in confusion. Was she sick? She didn't feel sick..

Her mother sighed, the soft noise slapped her out of her thoughts. "Well, you still have that fever. Eat up and get some rest. If you're fever is still there or gets worse, your staying home this week--no exceptions." And with that, her mother's heeled steps echoed in the hallway after her room was secured shut.

Blinking in complete and udder confusion and wonderment, Angel looked down at the food. She couldn't believe it! It was all her favorite foods! Ham and cheese grilled sandwich with golden crusted toast. Strawberry flavored apple sauce with miniature raisins, and warm, steaming red-orange tomato soup with animal crackers in it. Her mother even made her sweet syrup tea! This was a wonderful present. Even if it was because she was sick, she enjoyed it. She wasn't planning on being sick all the time just for this treatment, but getting it was just…well, a relief. It just made the fact that her mother really did love her noticeable to her, even under sour doubts.

Picking up the spoon with excitement equaling her rumbling belly, she tasted the soup and smiled big. Her cheeks flushed as the thick flavor went down her throat. This is going to be the best dinner ever.

When the food was all gone, and all that was left was the tall glass of syrup tea, which was nearly empty, Angel set the tray on her night stand and looked up at the clock. It was twenty minutes 'till eleven. She smiled gently. She would have finished sooner, but her mother came in and read her favorite story to her; Cinderella. She had stopped to listen to it. After her mother bid her goodnight and went to bed after checking her fever again. It was still there, but it seemed to have cooled just a bit. It was about thirty minutes ago when she last saw her mother.

Sighing and looking around her room, she did notice that she felt a little better, but she wasn't tired at all. Her mother ordered her to stay in bed until morning, at least, but it was hard. Her legs had the itching sensation, and it had her nearly shaking with unannounced anticipation. She looked outside. The birds were fast asleep, the air was nearly non-breathless with no wind. The warmth of the humidity actually helped her a bit with warming up. She smiled, seeing a slight glow around the shadows near the next door neighbors' house. It was a clear sky that night. Oh, she wished she could go out and see. Sometimes, she even wished that she could fly in the night sky.

Leaning back against her propped pillow, she closed her eyes and started to imagine the cool wind of the night blow against her face, imagining that whisk flight that she dreams of every now and then. She never fell in the dream, only glide. Right before she would wake up, she would dream that she landed in what she assumed to be Central Park. She's never been there, but she knew that it was unlike any other park. And this part was unlike any other.

Right when sleep was getting a hold of her, a strong wind caught her grip. She blinked open her eyes with a shudder, pulling the covers closer to her. Looking up from her semi-huddled position, she saw a shadow in the moonlight on the branches of the tree. She stiffened with fear and shock. Fear from knowing the fact that the shadow could enter at any time, for her window was forever open. And shock from wondering how it got in such a high tree without her hearing it.

She started shivering again, but more out of fear then the mysterious wind. She closed her eyes tightly in the moon lighted room , hearing the branches creak as the person moved. She heard the wood of her floor squeak as well, new weight was on it. She buried herself deeper into her covers, shivering visibly at this point. She heard the heavy footsteps come closer to her, bringing her bottom lip to the mercy of her teeth to keep herself hushed as the trespasser came closer. A hand was placed on her shoulder and she curled up fast, causing her to stiffen and gasp. Angel's eyes widened as pain ached all over her body. Her wound re-opened when she curled up, a slight whimper coming from her lips, but her eyes not shrinking.

The covers replaced themselves away from her, but before she could feel the coldness or even scream, she felt herself being hoisted up into another warmth. She shivered at the familiarity and looked up. She gasped, but in surprise this time. Tears starting to spring from her crystal clear blue eyes as she saw the unforgettable clay red skin and snow white hair embracing her. She saw, and felt, the wings wrap around her body. She started becoming comfortable again, looking up more and seeing the face of her guardian angel. She smiled more as the warmth of his body started to bring sleep to her once again. She didn't know why, but it seemed to have that effect on her. It made her…calm and safe. She loved this feeling.

Snuggling up to him more, not even noticing her wound, she started to let sleep take over once again. She felt his clawed hand run over her head and shoulder as she did, her smile broadening as the flight dream came to her.

"It's okay Angel. It wont be long now until your dream comes true…I promise." With that, the creature tucked her back in her bed, hesitating a moment before placing the tip of his beak shaped snout to her forehead softly, symbolizing a soft and caring kiss. Looking back once more, he sighed and left the girl, going back to his nightly patrol of the over large city that is his, and the girl's home.

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**A/N:** Nothing much to say. 'cept what is that our favorite red skinned gargoyle know that the rest of us don't?...hmmm...interesting. -evil grin-

Next chapter I'll try to have up as soon as I can. Can't say for sure. AP Art as been killing my time [I've been staying up 'till 11:30 every night working projects. D: So bare with me ;

Love You All, My Readers :D

MythoG


	3. NoteUV

Dear Readers,

To some, this may not concern you, but to those who ask, this does:

I had received at least two reviews saying that they would like to read the uncut version of my story, in this case being "Concrete Angel". I appreciate this, and I will oblige to your requests. But I must warn thee:

Strong language, stronger abuse, and possible rape is in the first chapter. The story will be longer, for more violence and details in the story. If you can not handle this, then please for my sake, and most importantly yours,** DO NOT READ IT**.

This is possibly the most violent/gore story I have created, the uncut that is. So please, take my warnings seriously.

MythoG

P.S. Thank you for all the reviews and enthusiasm. I will post the next chapter when I can. For those of you that are concerned about Brooklyn saving Angel---In this version (cut) it wont be long. In the Uncut version...well, lets just say more is to come before he makes his final decision.

Thank You For Reading :)


	4. Part III

**Part III**

**Disclaimer**: _I DO NOT_ repeat_ DO NOT OWN ANY FORM OF GARGOYLES!!_ They rightfully belong to Disney.

**Enjoy.**

Crits and Comments are Welcomed.

**A/N**: This chapter is mainly on Brooklyn's flashback. So pardon for that ; I'm working on the fourth part as we speak, so please be patient.

**LOVE YOU MY READERS:D**

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Flying up high so that the people of Manhattan wouldn't scramble in fear, the red clay skinned beast traveled back to his home. He could just barely see the clock tower that he, and others dwelled in. Or rather on. His chocolate brown eyes shimmered in the moonlit sky, deep in thought of his travels this past year.

Ever since he was designated to fly in the harsher portions of New York, Queens to be précised, he wished he'd never volunteered for such a task. The fights and rescues lasted until he barely could make it back to the tower. Sometimes he would drag either Lexington or Broadway with him, just to ease some of the weight and get his side of the work done. Every night it seemed to get worse and worse. He even had nightmares during his stoned slumber of his 'adventures'. He'd see things that none of the others would have even imagined, things that no eyes or ears should dwell upon. Especially the victims. Sometimes he would be too late, but would catch the criminal and make sure they felt pain before he left them for the law to find. If he hadn't have taken that oath to Goliath that he would never kill humans, he would have done it a million times this past year. His blood boiled just thinking about those missions. But one mission that he dubbed as his duty made him squirm the most.

**-Flashback-**

He met, or rather had seen, a little girl, not too long after his translocation at Queens. She was walking home from school, but the weird thing that attracted him to her was this aura of loneliness around her. None of the other students bid her farewell, called her name and waved, or even so much as looked at her when they left. No one he saw, or even knew, had that much loneliness in their lives. Especially at that young of age.

He started feeling a lonesome connection to the girl, and as a result of much debate, he followed her. For once, he was glad that dusk came early around this time of the year, for he got to see this human in all retrospect reality. But when he finally landed in a safe guarded tree in her backyard, he wished that he had never followed her, and yet at the same time he was glad for it.

In the small, but still comfortable looking white, two story house, he could hear screaming and ravaging, over exaggerated swears. His pointed ears twitched to a low stance, finding this to be uncomfortable is close to entering the facility when he saw what, or rather who, was causing the commotion.

In the hall way of the upstairs floor was a window facing the backyard, he could see perfectly through it, but knew that whoever lived there wouldn't be able to on him. The sight that he witnessed made him rethink everything that he once knew and thought right on humans and clemency. He saw a woman, could not be older then thirty-five, thirty at the least, hunched over and face full of fury that he was sure that Demona would have quivered from her. She held the little girl that he saw outside so tightly that he could see tears forming in her eyes, but she didn't let them out. He couldn't exactly apprehend what the older woman was saying, but whatever it was put the little girl into shame.

What happened next made his eyes widen, and nearly fall out of the tree in shock; the mother had hit the child so hard that she flew into the wall, bounced off and landed hard on the floor, so hard that he heard it. He was even more shocked to see that the woman didn't even show any ounce of regret, mercy, or even kindness to the girl. All she did was place her hands on her hips and glare her down as if she were the most disgusting thing in this dimension.

Brooklyn had never felt such anger and passion to rip someone to shreds before. To tear their heart out and show them what the pain felt to those they had caused onto others. So outraged was he, that he didn't even noticed he growled, or that his chocolate brown eyes turned pure white. His hair had stood on end, as if he were a stray cat in the most uncomfortable of places. He practically was, in this situation.

He saw the woman jerk, her farthest leg from him going in front in an upwards solution. If she did what he imagined, he prayed to his ancestors for patience and tolerance before he flew in there and ripped that woman's flesh from her limbs. Soon enough, he saw the woman bend over and jerk the poor girl up harshly, lifting her up above the ground and shaking her violently. The girl was crying now, holding her upper stomach, and blood running down her head where she had hit it on the wall and floor. Her left cheek was bruised blue and purple, the slap from the woman.

Another growl emitted from the gargoyle's chest as he saw the woman toss the girl in what he thought was her room, respecting her as if she were just a measly piece of trash. His grip on the branch he was on strengthen and he had to fly up in order for him not to be found. His eyes still had that cream glow to them as he looked down at the house. His muzzle in a frown that showed disagreement to everything he had just witnessed.

Before he flew completely off, he saw a single light was on. It was the little girl's room. He looked around that particular area and saw a rigid tree right in front of her window, in between her house and the neighbors. He eyed the tree with his now chocolate eyes, hoping that it was strong enough to hold his frame. As he landed, he winced at the loud creak it made under his weight, but was cheerful nonetheless to see that it didn't combust under him. Getting his balance in order, he glanced through the window. Well, everything but the glass.

He was shocked to see that the window was open, and from the looks of the wood, permanently. He made sure not to make a sound, not wanting to be found out so quickly. As he glanced in, he saw that the room was bare, white walls and ceiling, old wooden floor, a single dresser, nightstand, and twin-sized bed towards the right end of the room. He felt sorry for the child, not growing up like others must be hard for her. Especially with a threatening parent. Well, at least he thought she was her parent.

He shook his head as he started to think of that woman, not wanting her vile form in his mind. He continued viewing and saw the little girl on her bed, holding her wounded ribs and crying her eyes out as if it would be her last. Brooklyn sunk lower, his ears going down as far as they could, as well as his wings. He wished that he could care for the child, let himself be known and take her away from this hell hole that was supposedly her home. He just couldn't understand how someone that was supposed to be caring and raising a child, would act so harshly and inconsiderate towards their spawn. He shook his head, worried and sad of this condition in this young one's life. He looked up, hearing the young one stir in her bed. Before he could be spotted, he flew up above the house and slouched on the roof, watching the window over the edge carefully. As he predicted, the girl looked out, searching for him. He bit his bottom lip, in hopes that she doesn't look up, or at least in his direction. Letting out a sigh, he saw that the girl vanished into her own room again. He hated to do this, but it was for the best to protect his identity. He knew that he isn't to meet her until the right moment. _When ever that will be…_ He thought gloomily to himself. He took one last look down at the lit room and spread his wings, letting the wind carry him back to the Clock Tower.

_Don't worry, little one. I'll be back, and when I am, I will, for the life of me, protect you._ His eyes was set to that moment, cold, harsh, and determined he was at the moment that he didn't even hear the welcoming party of his best friend, Lexington. Instead, he was planning on secretly watching the little girl, never before craving the urge to protect or see anyone that badly.

**-End Flash Back-**

It was through his secret watching of the girl that he found out her name, Angel. He muttered the name often, letting it roll from his beak and tongue, growing to love the sound. A grim smile grew on Brooklyn's beak when remembering that Angela, Broadway's mate and Goliath's daughter, usually mistaken his mutterings of him calling her name. It always ended up with her blushing and apologizing. He didn't know why, but he liked messing with her when he was bored. It wasn't for pure amusement, but perhaps the warm red that appeared on her cheeks. It did make her look cute.

His face fell into a frown again. His mind wondered back to Angel, wondering if she ever laughed, or blushed from fun embarrassment, not just shame. He placed a claw upon his chest, feeling a strange tug there when he pictured the girl in pain, the night he had first met her almost a year ago.

It then a cured to him; through out that year he watched her, she never once smiled, blushed, or so much as project a heartfelt laugh. Within that second, he made it his goal to make her the happiest girl that New York has ever seen in it's miserable world.

The thing is, how does one such as he take a fallen angel out of the clutches of this miserable world?

_I think it's 'bout time we payed a visit to the detective._ He smirked some, wondering what she would think once he told her his story. Having found new hope, he veered his direction towards the apartment of Elisa Maza, one of the few humans who know of his kind, and they're only trusted outside friend.

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**A/N:** Well, there's nothing I can say, except that I'm sooooooooooo sosososo sorry for the lateness of this chapter! D:. Writer's Block has been killing me, as well as this College stuff. Ugh! I don't know which one will kill me first.

Fourth Chapter will be up as soon as I can bring it up.

Love you, my Readers!

**P.S.** _Don't forget to review ;D. It boosts my 'umpf' to write._

-MythoG


	5. Part IV

**Part IV**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any form of Gargoyles: They rightfully belong to Disney.  
_On the last chapter, I accidentally put "Transformers" under the disclaimer. I will fix that once this is up. Sorry for the inconvenience._

**A/N:** This chapter is all about Angel. The next one will be a mix between Elisa and Angel, as well as a little bit of Brooklyn. Heads up.

**Enjoy.**

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Angel awoke to the sound of the wind howling through her window. It wasn't the cool winter breeze that she's been feeling for a while, but a warmer one. She blinked open her eyes, the crystal blue of them shimmering in the morning light. A weak smile was upon her lips, before she remembered where she was. Her body snapped up with a high pitched gasp, her eyes glancing at the clock, seven-thirty the hands pointed at. It wasn't until she read the calendar next to her bed did she calm down, it was now Saturday. Sighing with a soft smile, she fell back down on her pillow, re-closing her eyes for a few more moments, relinquishing in the warmth of the sun and feeling of the weekend.

Now it wasn't the weekend that made her happy, oh no. Usually it was the weekends that she dreaded, because it just gave her mother more time to bang up on her. What made her the happiest on this particular moment was two things; one was that she had seen her Guardian Angel the night before, and he had promised her something, something that she knew she would never forget. The second is that her class was going to be traveling into the city, to Central Park.

She knew she would be able to go, because her mom signed the permission slip. It will be an all day matter and they would be leaving at nine in the morning. She remembered hearing her mother that it would give her an excuse to have the house to herself without any nuisance of a child. Angel didn't care what her mother called her on this day, today she was going to make it the best she has ever had in her dreary childhood life.

Protruding a giddy giggle from her lungs, she threw the comforter and sheets off of her and jumped up towards the closet, not being able to wait any longer. Opening the door, she looked through the small collection she had, trying to think of a good outfit that doesn't consist of frills and flower prints. After a few minutes of comparing and contrasting, she decided on her faded blue overalls that went to her mid calves, with a green shirt with shoulder sleeves and the word 'ANGEL' written out in cream cursive. The back had cream colored wings where her shoulder blades would be, the wings being a bit chubby and cute, and showing perfectly out of the design of the overall's opening. Her shoes were that of worn out blue and green sneakers, the shoelaces close to falling off of them. Her final products were regular white socks, and braided pig-tails hanging from behind her ears and over her shoulders. For this, she didn't need any help, for she learned it by practice in front of the mirror.

With the bruises, cuts and band aids on her arms and face, one glance would bring her in the topic of a tom-boy. It was the perfect outfit to cover up any questions. She enjoyed it. Privacy is very good to have, she has learned, but secretly she wished that she had at least one or two friends that she could talk to, laugh at things, and cry to when in dread.

Shaking her head from the depressing thoughts, she brought the thought of the field trip in her mind, another smile coming from her luscious lips. Holding in another giggle, she grabbed her backpack and stuffed in some snacks she's been saving for this day, two water bottles, an extra pair of socks, and a notebook with a pen and pencil.

The notebook wasn't for class, they could do whatever they wanted so long as they were in a group and with a teacher or grown-up, this was her journal, her art book, her only day-time friend that knew all her secrets and thoughts. Her mother told her almost a year ago to pick up a hobby, not to just sit in her room and stare at the opened window. In result, she found art and writing to be her favored passions. It has been a while since she's used it, so she's planning on making this day special by placing good thoughts, news, and pictures in it. A smile crept on her lips again, passion running through her eyes; she couldn't wait to write and draw about her Guardian.

Placing her pink and white back-pack over her shoulders, she glanced at the time-teller on her wall; she had nearly twenty minutes left. Her shimmering blue eyes sparkled, already feeling it to be a wonderful day, and it has barely begun it's magic on her. Before she could take a step towards the door, however, her mother walked through the door, stern and commanding as always. "You are not going anywhere. You are sick, unhealthy, and need your rest. You are staying in bed today. Don't you dare give me that look, you little urchin-!" Angel heard a slap sound and sting on her left cheek where it was cut before: The force causing her to fall down on the wooden floors of her room, a warm feeling surrounded her cheek and slid down her neck.

The little girl clinched her fists as she laid there, tuning out her mother's harsh words of belittling her about being careless about her health and body. Angel's thoughts started racing around her head, causing her to have a headache, causing her to have water drip from her shimmering eyes. She had never felt such emotion before; it wasn't sadness, it was harder, more violent. She had never felt this much anxiety or excitement run up her spine and into her brain, it felt good. Without another thought, glared at her mother, ice and cold were the only words that could describe it. The other woman had stopped talking, eyes widening for a split second at seeing the girl's stare, never seeing it so intense before.

"Do you want to be punished so badly, is that it!?" Before another sound of pain and torture could ring in the air, a crack was sounded. Angel flung her leg back around from tripping the woman, taking the time to run out of the house and straight to school, ignoring her mother's threats and hollers for her to come back.

The anger slowly turning to fear as she saw the yellow buses in front of the gates. She started to pray to Heaven, begging for once that she would have a wonderful day and not miss those buses. Someone must have listened, for as soon as she turned towards the doors of the bus, her teacher saw her, smiling.

"Angie! I'm so glad that you made it. Here, let me help you." The rich voice rang in the little girl's ears, causing her to smile.

She let her teacher take her backpack, still smiling as she got on the bus. She turned to her teacher before traveling to the very back of the bus to sit alone, saying for the first time to the woman that had let her get through the days:

"Thank You."

It was more then just taking her back, it was for helping her to feel strength just by looking at her, knowing that the woman wanted to help. It was also a powerful force towards the Heavens, allowing her this one day that she had wished and waited for.

Angel's imagination took hold of her, drowning out the noises and talks of the children around her, only seeing her Guardian Angel beyond the window, feeling his warmth and his heart beat ringing in her ears. The last thing she had imagined, or rather heard, before dosing off in a well-deserved nap were his words from the night before: "By coming of the next sun-rise, you will be free; little Angel."

Angel jumped in her seat with a gasp, looking frantically around. She sighed in relief when she found her teacher hovering over her and the cushion of the bus seat in front of her. Then it donned on her; the bus wasn't moving. A wide grin protruded on her pale and bruised face, looking around and out the window as she saw many of the kids getting grouped together.

The teacher caught her attention again by touching the girl's shoulder, Angel turned around in her seat with a questioning, but innocent look. The teacher hesitated a bit, taking in the sweet and innocent glow around the child, wondering why and how she could live in an abusive life style. Oh yes, she knew, but there was nothing she could do. From living it before, all it would cause is more trouble.

"Angel," The teacher hesitated again, sitting next to the girl, blocking the way to the girl's one day of freedom. The said girl frowned at this, having a feeling that she was in trouble and wouldn't be able to go. She just hoped that she didn't have to go back to her mother, back home.

"Angel," The teacher said again, this time finishing her sentence, "I want you to walk with me. I've talked to the teachers, and they have agreed with me that, from your actions towards the others at school, yours should be a one-on-one tour of Central Park. What I would like to know is, would you like to do that, or go with the others in one of the groups?" The teacher nodded towards the outside, mentioning the kids outside as two of the groups started to go into the park with their adult-watchers.

Angel looked outside, weighting the options in her head as she looked on seriously about this. Being with the kids would make her feel lonelier then usual, being in a beautiful place like this. If she was with the teacher, she wouldn't feel that much freedom then she would have thought. Turning towards the woman next to her, she looked deep in her eyes, wondering if she should trust her with just a one-on-one walk. She knew very well what the teacher wanted, she wanted to talk. It was what she wanted everyday, it was written clear on the young woman's face as if it were a part of her.

The little girl looked down and nodded gently, "I'll go with you," Her voice was so soft and low that the teacher had to strain her ears to hear her properly, or at least decently. This answer caused the young woman to smile brightly, feeling a strong connection to the girl in more then one way, she couldn't help but feel a little giddy on the inside.

The woman stood up in the isle, stepping back so that Angel could get passed. As the girl slid out of her seat, the teacher placed the pink and white back-pack in front of her, letting the girl have it.

"We can do whatever you want today, Angel. Today is all about you." The woman couldn't help but smile at the widened eyes of the little girl. It reminded her of another little girl that she knew in her past, but she pushed those thoughts aside, feeling the need to help at least today for a little girl that has always needed it.

"Thank you, Ms. Baney," was Angel's soft, smiling response. She held the back-pack close to her chest as she walked off the bus, her teacher, Ms. Baney, close behind and keeping a warm and careful eye on her. She started feeling anxious and excited again, but it wasn't the harsh one that she felt earlier that morning, this one was more warm and calming. Two new emotions she had never felt before, all in one day. Angel wondered as she took her teacher's hand, walking in the park with her; was that a good thing, or a bad thing?

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**A/N:** Well, nothing to say tonight, except that the next chapter will (hopefully) be placed by the weekend. Graduation is coming up, and everything is in near chaotic, so we'll have to see.

Thank you for your patience,  
**-MythoG**


	6. Part V

**Part V**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any form of Gargoyles: They rightfully belong to Disney.

**A/N: **As promised, this chapter has an Elisa/Brook/Angel mix in it. The next one will be Elisa/Angel mix.

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**~Two Nights Ago~**

Coffee, a detective's best friend on the latest of nights; the warmth of the steam and liquid vibrating through the mug into the hands, the aroma intoxicating and heightening the senses. The taste, oh Lord on high, the thick, creamy taste filled with caffeine and energizing thickness that runs down the throat full of it's warming comfort. Its warming liquid can also be a screaming sensation once thrown upon the chest of oneself when surprised by an unexpected guest.

Elisa Maza knew exactly how that felt at the moment.

She was, at the moment, glaring at an apologetic looking clay colored gargoyle that was standing in her living room. She grabbed a towel and started dabbing at her black tank top that was now covered in hot coffee. At least she wouldn't be getting cold any time soon. When she got her top moderately dry, she slammed the now wet fabric on the counter next to her, her hands now plastered on her hips as if she were a mother looking down at a terrible child.

"Okay, Brooklyn," She sighed, trying to sound patient, when in reality she wanted to strangle the damned winged animal for ruining her perfect night off duty.

"What is so important that you had to burst in on my lovely night of tranquility, one that I haven't had in almost four months, and not to mention--but practically screaming your lungs out at me for no reason at all?!" She sighed, rubbing her eyes as she tried to calm down. She went over to her living room area and sat down on the large red couch, looking at the gargoyle that was still standing and shook her head as she sighed again.

"Well, take a seat, and tell me what it is, Brooklyn." She motioned towards the chair in front of her, waiting until he sat down before she properly looked at him, her ears wide open.

"I'm sorry that I scared you, Elisa, but I desperately need your help in freeing this child from an abusive life style. Now before you say anything and chew my tail out," He raised a claw up before she could speak out in protest.

"I've been watching her for the past year since I've been assigned Queens as my watch station. She's…She has a strong spirit and a positive outlook on life, but her mother," He sighed, shuddering at naming that creature as her mother.

Elisa looked at him with saddening eyes. Now she felt like the guilty one for yelling at him; this was a good reason to disturb her. There was just one thing that was bothering her, she just hoped that the feeling she was getting was correct.

"Do Goliath and the others know about this?" She sent a worried glance in his direction, wanting to help him with all her might, but she knew it was a risk without the other's approval.

"What? No—I haven't told any of them, yet. They don't understand the harsh environment in Queens; even Lexington is still in baffle wonderment after I asked him to help me some months ago. No—I can't let them in on this; it's personal and means a lot to me to just be judged away." He looked down at his clasped claws that were hands before looking up at her with a determined look

"Brook!" Her voice broke as her body stood up at an unnatural speed in winter. The force of speed knocked her chair back a few inches against her calves, her fists radiating red as they clenched against their palms.

"You know the consequences of going through with a situation and crime like this alone, let alone without consent of the others! What are you thinking-"

"I'm thinking of the little girl named Angelica Danvers!" His eyes lit up as he stormed up in a defensive stance, wings spread and chest puffed, claws intact as if ready to transfer to offense if needed; but he knew that wasn't necessary in this case.

The movement, however, sent its message towards Elisa; frozen stiff with saucer eyes planted above a silent mouth, waiting for the clay borne gargoyle to calm down. She sighed out in defeat when he had finally rested his wings and claws. Sitting down Elisa rubbed the temples of her head, feeling a strong headache arising.

"Elisa, please, you are the only one that I can trust with this. You know how terrible these people can be with their own kin, and how much help they need. Just please, don't tell Goliath and the others, please?"

His pleads weren't the ones to finalize the detective's decision, it was his eyes; the auburn eyes were light with hope and heavy with grieve, all for the little girl that he spoke of. She couldn't say no to those kinds of eyes, not when she carried such emotions so proudly in herself.

"Alright," She sighed, relaxing somewhat in her chair, "I'll help you. But If Goliath starts to question of what we are up to, I will have to tell him the truth, I can only hold something so dear from him for so long."

Brooklyn nodded with agitation, he knew how loyal they both were to each other, but he just wished it didn't run so deep on some occasions. _'But at least he has someone who loves him unconditionally'. _He smiled an empty smile at the thought, never knowing what that kind of love felt like.

"Another thing; we need to find a proper home for her, one that is willing to take her in and that she trusts in return. If what you're saying is as harsh as you are telling me, then I'm afraid we are going to have a tough time in finding someone." Her eyes were searching her apartment as she searched her thoughts. One might think she was debating on keeping the child there, but that wasn't the case. She was thinking of all the foster families that she knew and trusts that could be able to take in another little girl. Before she could think of anyone else, Brooklyn's determined voice had stumbled her out.

"Why not have her stay with you? I mean, I know you would rather have her with a proper family, but what if that doesn't happen immediately? Besides, I think she would trust you more easily than another family." Brooklyn didn't want to admit it, but he really wanted her to stay with someone that he knew, so that he could keep an eye on her as well. The only fleshed person he knew, however, was Elisa.

Elisa analyzed that he sounded determined, almost too determined for her liking. As soon as he spoke his first words, her mind was already made up on what to say to his decision.

"Brooklyn, it's not the matter of just the trusting issues; it is also the matter of habits, nightmares, getting used to another life style. She won't be able to live with me; I'm on call 24/7 and that means that I will have to leave at any moment. That's no life for a child who's in need to get mentally, and perhaps physically better."

Her eyes were sympathetic but her words made it the end of the conversation, finalizing her decision and the talk. He knew that she was right, but he didn't want to admit it, not out loud at least. He knew the untimely hours of a detective's life, mainly because he and his brothers helped her on a majority of her cases. He was about to suggest having Angel stay with him and the clan, but that would mean that Goliath and the others would have to know about the rescue mission, her situation, and even a discussion if she could even stay with them. That was just an argument waiting to happen that he didn't want to be a part of.

He shook his head at these thoughts. He would make time to be with her, even if he had to move to another location for her, he will find a way.

"I'll find a way to be with her, Elisa. She needs another life, one that she can trust and be a child--"

"Yes, Brooklyn; 'to be a child'." She cut him off, repeating his own words against him. She folded her arms in a partial glare towards him, really not liking the attitude he was starting to give her.

"How can you expect her to have a normal, childhood life when her best friend is out nearly ninety percent of the time? I can handle it, because I'm a grown woman and can understand the need of your duties in the city, just like mine, but Brooklyn…" She sighed, her anger subsiding to sympathy, remembering a lot of the children she saved on some of her missions, with or without the Gargoyles help.

"She's just a child, Brooklyn. Let her live with someone…an adult that she has connected with or something, or someone that we know and trust, until she is old enough to come with you, if she still wants to. Okay?" She went over to him, rubbing the back of his shoulder just above the base of his wing, trying her best to comfort him.

"If it's all the same, we'll try and have the guardians agree for you to visit her when either of you like. How does that sound?"

Brooklyn just sighed, his head feeling heavy upon his shoulders as they drug lower with each word she said. He knew that Angel deserved a loving family, but he knew he could give her that. He just needed time. When that thought in mind came, he stood up and looked at Elisa with serious, yet thankful eyes.

"I will be back for her, Elisa. She thinks of me as her guardian, and that's what I'm going to be. Do what you like, just so long as you help me get Angel Danvers out of that house, away from that woman, and to a safe environment."

With those as his last words, he took flight into the city air, gliding back towards the tower before the sun had risen.  
Elisa sighed, closing the window as she did. She placed a dark purple sweater over her tank top, feeling the chilled air of the night get to her, as well as her new mission. She went back to the kitchen, refilling her mug with hot coffee. Taking a sip, she grabbed the phone off of the receiver and dialed her office number as thoughts coolly ran through her head.

"Chavez? I need you to bring up a file for me under Angel Danvers, if you can…Yes…Yes, it is important. A friend told me about her…condition towards her household progenitor…Yes, I will look into it. Thank you."

And with a victory smile, she took another sip of her mug, taking into note that she will be busy for the next couple of days.

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With a heavy weight on his shoulders, the red and white gargoyle swiftly landed on the edge of the old clock tower; four hours until the sun rose, this is starting to become the longest night in history under his books. He stretched his arms up high, as well as his tired wings and shook away some of the stress from his neck as he walked through the door. He just couldn't get the thought of Angel and the possibility of having her stay with another family out of his mind; what if they turned out to be abusive as well? They couldn't possibly know how to treat her correctly, like he does. He knew that Elisa was correct about the fact of her being neglected during the day time, but he couldn't help that, it's his nature. He growled lowly, wishing that the curse of being a gargoyle wasn't so difficult.

"Hey, Brook," The small, yet calculating voice of his best friend and comrade busted his thinking bubble and brought him back to reality. Taking a glance around him, he looked down at the intelligent tanned gargoyle that was by his feet, giving him a questioning look.

"Yeah, Lex? What is it?" He had to wince at his own voice; it sounded too hoarse and scratchy, like he hadn't spoken in days.  
Lexington's expression became that of worry rather than questioning at this, now standing on his hind feet to get a better look at his taller friend.

"Are you sure you're okay, buddy? I mean, I know that you've been having a hard time at Queens, but I've never seen you this stressed before." He started to examine his eyes with a strange miniature telescope with a light laser. Brook's eyes dilated but didn't twitch; instead he growled again and gently shoved his friend aside with a tired sigh.

"Yes, I'm fine. I just…I just need some rest. I'll talk to you later about it, okay Lex?" He gave his best friend a weak smile, assuring him that he was okay but needing some time.

The smaller of the two nodded with a worry look, but a smile nonetheless. When Brooklyn was ready to talk, he knew he would hear about it from his beak rather than one of the others. To show that he wasn't going to bother the red colored gargoyle, he went to his lab/room to work on his latest experiment.

Brooklyn sighed with relief, really not wanting to be bothered at the moment and dragged himself towards the spare room that they usually use when they have visitors, usually Elisa, to take a few hours rest before he turned into stone.

**~Present Day~**

"Angela Danvers, you're needed at the principal's office."

A middle aged woman barged into the room rather rudely in the middle of class, her hair bun accrued as if she had been running a marathon before entering. Her eyes scanned the small room filled with children before landing on Angel, her eyes looking hopelessly thankful yet at the same time sorrowfully as she straightened herself up, waiting for the girl to gather her things.

Ms. Baney looked at the middle aged woman rather confused of the situation and got off her desk, her book of Tom Sawyer in hand from reading it to the class. She looked over at Angel who was gathering her supplies rather slowly in her book bag before looking back at the woman at the door.

"Mrs. Kyller, may I ask the meaning of the suddenness?" Ms. Baney wouldn't admit it out loud to the other staff or students, but she cared for Angel and worried about her constantly. She knew perfectly well what went on in that little white house of hers, and wished she could help the poor child. But there was only so much a teacher could do.

The middle aged woman, known as Mrs. Kyller, shook her head rather urgently at Ms. Baney's question. This caused the teacher to look suspicious, giving the older woman a look that she promises to get the information out of her before the day was out. If there was anything that Ms. Baney was good at, it was retrieving information about her students' well being.

By the time Mrs. Kyller got the silent message from the rather agitated teacher, Angel had already made her way in front of the older woman, looking rather worried herself at what she might have done. Mrs. Kyller smiled down at her before closing the door to the room and patted the little girl's shoulder, not noticing the wince that she caused.

"Don't worry; you're not in trouble, Angela."

With those final words, Mrs. Kyller led the even more worried girl down the hallways to the principal's office where a rather impatient detective was waiting with two police officers at her sides.

* * *

**A/N**: Well, nothing to say except that I am sorry for the lateness of this chapter. I've finally made my career choice and concrete decision in my college classes, so there is less stress there. Hopefully it'll help me get more time for writing not only my personal stories, but the fan-made ones as well.

Thank you for your patience my readers. You don't know how much your faves and comments mean to me. Keep them coming :]

-Mytho

**P.S.** Remember, If you have ANY ideas on what should happen to Angel and/or Brook in the movie, please share them with me. I love hearing ideas from other people. I might even place them in the story, with credit of course :]


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